


a death of the heart

by detectivemills



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detectivemills/pseuds/detectivemills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Louis are apart the day before the MSG show; one of them is lost, one of them is found, and nerves – or maybe it's something else – get the best of them both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a death of the heart

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known: this representation of all One Direction significant others is in the name of the angst Lilo I felt the need to write after the early NYC/MSG insanity. The Danielle in this story is a character and in no way reflects her true self and/or how actual events transpired. Tbh I'm thrilled they’re bangin’ again. (But I’ll always kinda hope Liam & Louis are bangin’ too.)

It’s a full day – a full, glorious day with nothing to do, and the sun isn’t shining but it might as well be. New York sprawls and screeches and every time Louis blinks it’s something new, light sound and smell. It feels like an echo of London with the exception of the pace, the thrum of the city just a bit different, the same song in a different key. They decide to shop because the sights are appealing – really, they are – but the crowds aren’t.

“Shopping’s good. I like shopping. I like things,” Louis rattles off. “Not much else we can do without being mobbed, eh?”

Eleanor presses her palms to his cheeks, squishing Louis’s mouth into a weird shape. He tries to reform his lips into a pucker but she kisses him anyway.

“Always liked it when you got down t’business,” she tells him. When she lets go of his face, he leans in to kiss her again.

It’s not all that cold, but his hands feel icy; the one fused with Eleanor’s gets sweaty pretty quickly and that’s where the cold bites him, her fingers tangled with his. He keeps her close like her body is the only warmth he needs.

He spares a thought for the other four, spread out across the city. He doesn’t think anyone will venture that far; they can only explore so much, only have a finite amount of time to be with the people they haven’t really _seen_ , spent honest to god quality time with, in months, years, lifetimes. Louis grips her hand a little tighter at the thought and Eleanor doesn’t turn to look at him, but he sees the corner of her mouth tilt up, a smile in profile.

Harry chose to spend his day with Taylor, which is... what it is, and Niall blocked off the entire day for his mum and dad, made sure he was up early to get ready to meet them at their hotel. Zayn and Perrie slept late and Louis would’ve gone out of his way to take the piss if the relief of having her tucked under his arm wasn’t painted all over Zayn’s face, obvious in the glow of his eyes and the soft bend of his smile.

Liam, on the other hand, was wrecked from the start.

Louis had let himself into Liam’s room and it smelled sharp and wrong and Louis found him in the bathroom, sizing himself up in the mirror. Eyes far-off, muscles tight. Panicked. _Taxi Driver_ without the gun.

“Are you okay?” Louis had asked, because it was not the moment to assume or accuse. Liam’s face was schooled into a grimace that he must’ve thought was a smile.

“I’ve never -- ” Liam started. “I’ve never thrown up from -- from being nervous. Before.”

That smell. Jesus. “Liam -- ”

“It’s the show, I think,” he tried to tell Louis. “I can’t believe it’s happening, I can’t --”

“No, no no _no_.” Louis wanted to grab him, hold him, crush him back into the man he knows he is. “Where is she?”

Liam’s eyes landed on him, but didn't seem to focus. “On her way.”

Louis sighed. He thought he'd be prepared for this; he didn't expect it to happen so soon, to consume Liam and drain the color from his face so suddenly. He was trying to think, trying to come up with something brilliantly reassuring, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Three short pulses and one long buzz. Eleanor.

“She wouldn’t be coming if she didn’t want to see you.” He chose his words wisely; _if she didn’t_ want _you_ and _if she didn’t_ need _you_ were both off the table. Louis knew what Liam was dying to hear, but Louis wasn't the one who could give it to him. Not right now.

“She wants to be with you.” Louis tried to sound earnest.

“Yeah,” Liam said, and it was quiet enough that he might not have said it at all.

The morning actually feels like he’s being dragged around by a whirlwind, bouncing from shop to shop, avoiding the crowds and the flashes of brightly-colored iPhones. Their bags slap across his thigh and Eleanor’s purse presses against his side and he misses the throb of his phone in his pocket because he’s happy – genuinely happy, full to bursting with it. The sun could fall from the sky and Louis wouldn't bat an eye because he's pretty sure he's _glowing_ with it, waves of joy left in their wake for all of New York City to see.

He gets Liam’s messages when they sit down to lunch. There’s eight of them, all from almost an hour ago, and Louis feels like he’s missed the last step at the bottom of the stairs, lurching back to a reality that pulls on something painful in his chest.

_i cant do this_

_louis i cant do this_

_louis louis louis lou :(_

_do i hol dher hand?? lou :(_

_shes staring at me louis i dont know what to sayyyy yyy lou i cant_

_she glared at my hat lik its gonnaa come alivea nd eat her im gonna throw it out the window and i think also ill throwup lou_

_louisssssssss :(_

_louis_

“Love?” Eleanor intones, soft, sweet, right in front of him.

He looks up to smile at her. She looks vaguely concerned, a crease running between her eyebrows.

“Liam,” he tells her, and her face relaxes. She knows. Mostly.

 _Li_ , he starts, _how can I make this alright?_ He gets a message back almost instantly.

 _i dont knw how tobe w her w out BEING w her_ , it reads.

 _Be there with her, right now,_ he tells Liam. _Be who you are with her. You love her._

_but i dont KNO who iam w her. i feel diffrnt and stuupid :(_

He wishes Liam was here in front of him so he could shake his head, tut quietly, talk to him the way Liam talks to each of them when they’re upset. Rub at his shoulders. Relax him.

 _You’re no different. A bit sexier, maybe_ , Louis tries out. He gets back, _louuuuuuuuuuu_ , and he can hear the whine of Liam’s voice. It makes him want to smile.

 _She loves you,_ Louis tells him. _I love you. El loves you both. I’ll be here when you get home._

 _love u to_ , Liam replies, and Louis crosses his fingers under the table as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

They see a show together, all of them, and Louis sees the uncomfortable hunch of Liam’s back, the way his hand darts from his side out toward Danielle and back again. His fingers alight on her wrist and she leans into him, tall and striking and undeniably beautiful, but her face remains drawn, the smile on her lips not reaching her eyes.

They’re milling about in their own little corner of the lobby and Liam hasn’t said a word. He opens his mouth, licks his lips nervously and snaps it shut again. Louis thinks that if you weren’t looking closely, you could mistake it for something else: fatigue, or maybe shyness. A wariness of the cameras. But Louis can feel the tension between them, sees it in the defeated hang of Liam’s head. He feels Liam’s eyes boring into him, but he’s afraid if he swings his gaze to look him in the eye, Liam might break.

Zayn pulls Perrie to him, wraps her in his arms tight against his chest, and his eyes slide over to Louis, pleading. _Do something_. The light puff of Perrie’s hair frames his face.

Louis hikes the bags he’s still carrying up on his arm and cants his head to the side, lifts his shoulders in half a shrug. _I’ve got nothing._

 _He’s lost it_ , Zayn mouths, eyes wide. Louis thinks about the craziness that bubbles inside Liam when he gets wrapped up in himself like this, the restlessness Louis makes it a point to help him release. Louis wishes he could slap him around a little bit, poke him in the cheeks til he smiled.

When Louis looks over, Liam’s got her hand gripped in his so tight that Danielle’s fingers have gone white. She taps at her phone with her other hand. Liam stares at the floor.

Louis phone buzzes over and over during the show but he can’t pull it from his pocket, can’t bear to look at it. When he does an hour later, it’s a series of tiny emoji faces, some with frowny mouths or slanty mouths and one with tears. Louis wants to think it’s funny, but imagines Liam’s unfocused stare, the frightened droop of his eyes when she talks to him. He can imagine each of those emotions crawling across Liam’s face, dragging him farther away.

Danielle goes back to a different hotel with her sister and a friend and Louis crawls into bed with Eleanor, slipping away only after he feels her breathing steadily against his neck. He stops to look at her for a minute: face clear of makeup, mouth slack, tiny body rising and falling. Her hair is a mess against their pillows, a web of brown against white. She’s still and soft and almost perfect, he thinks, and he’s sure that he's in love with her.

Liam’s room is warm and silent and eerily cave-like; Louis almost trips on a shoe trying to make his way through the dark. The only slice of light peeks out from under the bathroom door. Louis lays a palm against it, lets it open slowly.

Liam’s sat on the sink, toilet paper balled loosely in his hand. He draws breath quietly, steadily, but his arms shake. His mouth is a straight line, but above his lips his face is red and shiny wet.

The smell from the morning hangs in the air again. Louis presses the tip of his foot to the toilet handle and flushes it without looking. Except for the shake of Liam’s shoulders and the slow swing of his feet against the vanity, everything is still. When the toilet stops running, Louis hears Liam sniff.

“She -- ” Liam tries, but his voice is caught, strangled by his own throat. “I -- I couldn’t tell her.”

“Tell her what, Li?” He’s careful with his words. He knows it needs to be drawn out of Liam like a poison.

Liam won’t look up. “That I love her.”

Louis steps closer, pressing his hands to Liam’s legs, right above his knees. Liam’s wracked with the nervous energy of leftover adrenaline, the heat and dying spark of a fight that didn’t happen; Louis can feel it in the shiver of his skin. It was a battle he was never going to win.

“She knows. You know she knows, Liam.” He’s still shaking when Louis slides his hands up Liam’s arms, warm through the sleeves of his shirt. “Li, it’s okay. You’re okay. Stop shaking.”

“I couldn’t say it,” he repeats. He sniffs, more quietly this time. “‘Cause I could tell she wasn’t going to say it back.”

Louis leans in and steps even closer, parts Liam’s knees with his body. He lets his head fall into the warm juncture between Liam’s shoulder and neck, lets his chin hook over Liam’s shoulder when they pull each other closer. Louis wraps his arms up and around, locks them tight at Liam’s back.

Liam hangs on.

They’re so close that when Louis wants to speak again, he has to shuffle back a half step to keep from crossing his eyes.

“Look at me,” Louis whispers, and his chin scrapes against Liam’s as he speaks.

When Liam looks up, there’s a moment where it could have been an accident. Louis wants to talk to him, tell him, _I’m here_ , and _I’ve got you_ , and _This isn’t your fault_ , and he starts to say all those things, but when Liam looks up, tilts his head to meet Louis’s eyes, it’s a brush of mouths, a careless split second.

Something tugs and snaps in Louis’s chest and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, or how, or why, but he’s pressing his mouth to Liam’s and he feels Liam’s bottom lip between his own. He doesn’t tense, and Louis counts it as a small victory. Liam’s mouth drops open a bit and Louis kisses him, thinks that if he really kisses him he might be able to share some of himself with Liam, his happiness from this morning, his smile, his love. Maybe he could bottle it up and give it to Liam to drink; maybe he could kiss him, keep kissing him like this forever, until Liam knows what it’s like to be content again.

Liam leans up, pushes their bodies closer together, and his hand is light on Louis’s back. It’s a long kiss, heavy with -- with _something_ , and it’s a new chapter between them: _the first time I kissed Liam and meant it_. Louis feels it low in his stomach, the sudden thrill of it, and then his hands are scrabbling at the button of Liam’s jeans because this is something he wants and something Liam needs.

“I’ve got you, Li,” Louis tells him, and Liam’s face is still damp when Louis presses in to kiss him again.

Louis rubs over Liam’s cock in his pants and takes him out quickly because now that he’s started, he can’t possibly stop. Liam’s halfway to hard and Louis only falters for a split second when Liam whispers his name, quiet and deep.

Liam doesn’t speak after that, doesn’t move except to make sure their mouths stay pressed to one another's. Louis lets his fist do the work and Liam’s legs go tight at his hips when he comes. He takes a gulp of air that sounds painful, a drowning man’s last breath, and lets it rush out of him after a long second. Louis lets his hand move for a minute longer, until Liam is slack against him, breathing hard but still.

His tears haven’t dried, but at least he isn’t shaking.

Louis turns and lets his mouth press softly, slowly against Liam’s neck. Liam pulls back and Louis feels a pang of fear, feels his body tense and his face start to heat, an excuse tripping on his tongue, but Liam kisses him square on the mouth, hard and fast, and Louis breathes with Liam, lets him in. He tries his best to give Liam what he needs.

They’re silent after a minute, still pressed up tight against each other. Louis leans back to grab the fallen wad of toilet paper to scrub off his hand. He looks up to smile at Liam – _Look at the fine mess we've made, the two of us! Ha!_ – and is met with empty eyes.

Louis feels like he's failed; this was his last chance at fixing this, fixing Liam, and he's fucked it up miserably, unequivocally. Liam’s face is heavy with something – pain, or fear, or the white hot sear of guilt that comes with making a huge mistake. He can't imagine a single thing he wouldn't give to wipe that look, whatever it is, from Liam's face.

And then Liam lets his mouth curve just a bit, lets his eyes soften into something that's closer to happiness, halfway to a smile, and says, “I love you so much.”

 _See?_ Louis wants to say. _Wasn't that easy? You could've said that to her!_ But the relief washes over him, spreads out from his stomach and tingles the tips of his toes, and what he actually tells Liam is, “I love you so much too.”

He thinks of another time he said that today, hours ago to a girl he knows is asleep in a warm bed that he'll climb back into in a few minutes, and, and, and --

It’s alright. It’s all going to be alright.


End file.
